Semza Deus
by AlantisB
Summary: *On Hold!!* AU- yaoi warning! Have you ever thought that maybe vampires have guardian angels too? This angel never thought the child he watched over would become a creature of the night. Read the tale of guardian angel and his charge named Maxmillion Dueo
1.

Senza Deus ****

Senza Deus

By AlantisB

Disclaimer: I don't own Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles at all! Don't sue me! I also don't own Gundam Wing, ::sniffles::

A/N: New idea alert! I'm just testing out this story idea, it is of course, a teaser. I want to see how many responses I get to this. Oh, and if your wondering about the title, its Latin for "Without God". I got it from some fanfiction story I read :;smiles sheepishly:: I just don't remember where. Please tell me if I took that from your story! Thanks! Now Enjoy it and remember, FEEDBACK!

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"In my opinion you can take the world in two ways;

You can see it as the depressing place it is and cry,

or you can see it as the depressing way it is

and make fun of it."

****

He gazed over at his charge. 

It was midnight and all was quiet and peaceful in the town of New Orleans. It was the Marti Gras and loud music was pumping out into the streets where thousands of mortals danced to the music, the beat making even the old adults into their late 80's dance to the enticing musical sound. Tourists and a few natives to New Orleans smoked a little grass as they became high on the calming, drugging effect it had on them. Everyone was smoking at least one joint tonight even at the risk of police finding them, they didn't care because it was one big party. Bottles of liquor were passed out at every time someone finished one off, neighbors were giving strangers beer and allowing them to feast on the food that was brought out because today was Fat Tuesday. 

To him it seemed like one huge excuse to get loaded and have fun in a huge city party. But that was just him, really! Actually his charge was thinking along the lines he was but he didn't think of it as it was wrong, in a sense his charge desperately wished to join the party that the mortals were having but it wouldn't be right or fair. Besides, his charge looked too young to be in this drinking party, they wouldn't let him join in. But that was fine with him, he knew his charge tended to get a little out of control and thus would cause a big ruckus among the humans even if they were drunk out of their minds.

He looked up at the stars that shined down onto the tiny planet he was currently on. They sparkled as if amused and watching a great performance being acted out to them for their enjoyment. The moon was full casting a haunting light over his charge that looked so young. But he knew that his charge was in fact, thousands of years old! Age seemed not to dim the beautiful creature that his charge really was, his thick wavy chestnut hair seemed more luscious and it reached his charge's knees. His charge could pass for a normal human except for one thing, his eyes. Those beautiful haunting violet eyes stared straight into your soul and captured you under a hypnotizing gaze as the ancient wisdom showed clearly in those depths, it could make a grown man shiver at the sight.

Mostly his charge ignored it or used it to his advantage in some cases, but he didn't go over board with it. He was in reality, a very compassionate person and didn't want to see anyone suffer because of him. It was this reason his charge was now hunting an escaped convict that was charged with the crime of committing murder to the first degree. His charge was very strict on himself and only hunted the most evil of mortals for the blood he needed to survive. He admired him for that, it took a lot of strength not to beat yourself up from guilt every time you killed someone.

After all people, he should know the most because he had killed during his lifetime. He came from an ancient tribe that had been around in Egypt long before the Egyptian clan took over his land and tried to rule it with its two new rulers named Enil and Ashka. He was a general in the most blood-filled of battles during the times that the Egyptian clan tried to take over the country. His men were the strongest in the army and he was considered as the High Priest General of the tribe and fought with honor by eating his enemies when he killed them after a battle. Back in those days, to honor the dead you ate the bodies in a ceremony that gave you the knowledge of your enemies by eating the heart. People used to think that the heart was where your soul was located and that you would gain power by consuming the organ. But now a days, people considered the brain as the central organ.

He remembered he was only sixteen when he became the High Priest General which caused many a people to hate him for it. He wouldn't lie to himself, he knew he had many enemies out for his blood but it was out of his hands when the chief decided to attack the Egyptians to steal back their land. It was in that battle that he met his demise. He was at the head of the army attacking viciously at the enemy by hacking them away with his sword. He remembered turning around when he sensed movement only to be enpaled by a sword of the enemy. He had gasped in shock as blood pored out of his mouth and he gazed at his attacker in hatred as the eastern boy with black eyes and hair tied back too tight smirked and mouthed "weakling" to him as he slipped into the darkness and fell to the ground.

But he knew the guilt, it was for that reason for his sins that he was sent to guard a newborn babe of his enemies, the Egyptians. At first, he was disgusted and wanted to kill the baby on sight but when the little child opened his eyes from sleep it cooed and stared at him with those large, violet orbs. When people are very young, their brains have yet to put up defenses to block out images of things they aren't suppose to see which explained why his charge saw him. His little charge smiled up at him with a toothless grin and held up his chubby arms to be picked up. He was confused and moved closer to gaze at the child. He was told that if he tried hard enough he could touch something solid. So against his instincts, he gently lifted the baby into his arms and watched as the babe yawn cutely and blinking up at him sleepily before snuggling closer and started to suck his little thumb as he drifted off to sleep.

The ice around his heart melted a little as he cradled the little child against him. After a few minutes he set the child down gentle and pulled the covers up to its chin and sighed. He knew this child was his enemy, at least he was his enemy when he was alive but now he understood that the child had done nothing to him. He was an innocent and perhaps he could even learn to like the little baby if it didn't annoy him too much. He had no idea what Odin-sama had up his sleeve making him a guardian of his enemy but it had to be for a good reason. 

Now he knew why he his charge was so special.

When his charge had turned fifteen he became a high priest of the temple of death. Egyptians back then, worshiped the God of Death and not the Sun God named Amon-Ra. It was a wonderful ceremony of his priest hood and he had attended although no one saw him. Presents were given to his charge as homage for his coming-of-age. One present was a big chest that the boy had opened right away. Red silk blankets were all tucked under the small black, panther cub - which looked up at its new master with large yellow eyes. His charge had picked up the small cub and cradled it to his chest. For some reason he couldn't understand, the cub hadn't struggled at all and in fact, purred in his master's embrace. He had named the cub "Bast" for the cat goddess, Bastet; that was sometimes considered the keeper of the dead since cats were the guardians of underworld gates. 

The last give he was given were his priest robes that were white baggy pants that tightened at his ankles and a loose white shirt that showed off his chest and no sleeves were on the shirt at all. The open chest would show off his amulet - which would symbolize his priesthood. All in all, it was pretty nice.

During the next year he saw his charge become the priest he was meant to be while raising the cub at the same time. But he remembered he had sensed danger near the priest whenever he visited at night to the pale looking King and Queen as he told them all the things that had happened over the course of a week. He thought for sure that his charge was in no danger for Enil and Ashka were very good rulers and listened intently as he told them what had happened. He had never suspected...

He looked over at his charge that was closing in on his victim. The boy came up to the man and seduced him with charming looks and leering gestures. His charge smiled seductively as he gently pulled the man into the alley before he grinned wickedly and put his hand over his victim's mouth so the man wouldn't be heard screaming as he sank his pearly white fangs into the man's unsuspecting neck. The man sighed and he watched as bliss came over the man as his spirit slowly detached from the body into the spirit realm from the death of blood loss. 

His charge finished drinking and bit his finger to drip a little of his special blood to cover up the wound on the neck he created. He then flicked his wrist as a knife slipped out of his sleeve and he slashed the man's throat to make it looked like he was mugged. He wiped his knife on the man's shirt before he slipped the knife back into his sleeve and headed out into the warm street lamps to party.

Heero sighed as he watched his charge start to have fun as an ache formed in his chest. His charge was vampire child of Ashka, the Queen of the Damned; that had named her fledgling "The God of Death". His chilling blue eyes hardened as he thought of it because being the lucky guy he is; he was the guardian angel of the vampire Maximillion Dueo. 

His death.

His redemption.

__

His Duo.

****

Hmm, I'm undecided if I should continue this or leave it as a one shot! Please tell me if you're interested about me continuing this! 

-AlantisB


	2. Death of Angel

Semza Deus ****

Semza Deus

By AlantisB

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! ^.^ But the plot, of course.

A/N: Wow! I got chapter two out sooner then I thought, cool huh? I hope you like it because I worked very hard to make you a very good, and very different type of vampire story.

******

I am the Guardian Angel of a vampire. My name is Heero Yuy and I've been punished to guard a child of the enemy I had when I was alive. I'm sure you readers have read the introduction to this little book I've written carefully, it wouldn't surprise me since you are obviously reading it now. But I have never written anything in my life or afterlife - which would be surprising to all of you mortals. Heaven isn't as glamorous as you make it to be with your book of God you wrote around the time of the prophet Jesus. There are no golden gates, no singing choirs of angels that do nothing all day but play harps and be pretty, no St. Peter asking you the meaning of life when you enter the gates – oh no! If you really thought that then your even more insane then my charge, and I'm telling you that is pretty crazy. I've been living with him for 5,000 years now, I know him inside and out. I know his secrets, his pain, and his love.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I?

The reason I'm writing this book is to make an impact upon the world of humans and vampires alike. I have read those books of vampires that have written their history on these bleached sheets of trees with little type writers or computers. I have read the blockbuster books you all think of as fantasy; The Interview of the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, The Queen of the Damned. Perhaps you'll think of my book too, as fantasy of a delusional writer that has no life but to make up fake history to sell in bookstores. I would be very disappointed if no one at least entertained the possibility of this all being real. Perhaps you may think it is when I finish telling my story to you. But enough of this, I'm getting off the topic.

I want to write a little about life and most of my afterlife. I want to share my story with you if you feel you wish to read it for it is a very long tale that no doubt would possibly make you loose interest in the middle of it, or maybe not. I don't know, I don't pretend to comprehend what you insane humans think today.

As in the introduction, I have entertained the possibility of touching things solid with just a little concentration. It is tiring, I will admit to that groggily. But I have eternality at my fingertips as the saying goes and all the time in the world to complete my tale to you. I wish to give you a part of myself like those vampires that have written their stories; perhaps the Talamasca shall put my book in their faults too with the vampire books if they ever read mine. Oh, you didn't think of the Talamasca of the vampire books as real, did you? It is a real organization and they are as old as they claimed to be. But I have no reason to explain it to you for there are only so many pages of trees in the world for me to write my story on; I don't want to kill any more by wasting ink and precious paper telling you things you already know.

I suppose you want me to tell my tale to you? Alright, find a nice comfortable place where you won't be disturbed because I assure you my tale is as enticing as any of the Vampire Chronicle books you've read and you won't be able to put it down. I'll start at the beginning of my life, because it is the best place to start a tale. 

I lived in a small village off the Tigris River in Egypt with my father. My mother is long dead, she died of an illness I have no knowledge of when I was just a small child in my bed. I can't remember too much of her but what I remember I could tell she was a beautiful woman, quite possibly the most beautiful one in the village. No doubt the image of her has faded with time in my mind, but I remember her eyes and hair clearly as if she was standing before me. Allahr, my mother, was a very exotic woman with her long black hair that curled naturally at the tips and deep soulful blue eyes that I had inherited from her. 

Allahr was very kind and loved me very much. When I was seven, before the illness got the better of her, she used to take me to the woods every day. I would walk with her as fast as I could with my little legs trying to keep up with her long strides she did with her long legs. She would take me to the center of the forest where a small stream flowed, she and I would play in the stream getting soaking wet and tired but I remember having so much fun playing that she didn't mind too much that I got her wet. Then we would lay in the sun that peaked through the treetops and dry off while she would tell me stories of ancient warriors who defended the land from the Egyptians that wanted to take over our little village for the land.

"Listen to me, Heeh Roh," Allahr picked me up from my seat on a rock and sat me in her lap. She stroked my hair and I laid my head on her chest listening to her breath and her heartbeat. It soothed me and I could feel myself drifting off for a light sleep. "One day, when you grow to be strong you will be a warrior. The finest in the village!" I looked up at her wondering if what she said was true, and she smiled down at me with that secret smile only she and I shared. I smiled back.

I was in love with her, but not the way a man loves a woman but the way a man loves a goddess. She was my world, my everything! I would have torn down heaven if she asked me to even at that age for I held a great respect for her. I watched as she brushed my bangs from my eyes. "You will be such a find warrior, my little man. You will bring pride to us." She breathed deeply as if loosing her breath and I frowned, gazing up at her. I knew her illness was getting worse, it was only a little time left before my Allahr, my mother, left me alone with my cold father. I didn't want that, I wanted her love and kindness. I didn't want to be my father, for surely that was what my father wanted me to be and if my mother died then I would be him.

"Come, let us go back to the village. Our clothes are dry now."

That night, while I lay in my straw bed, I could hear my mother's terrible coughing. It was a deep, throaty cough that shook her whole body from the effort. She had a chest illness, a very bad one and she was coughing up blood sometimes. I could see it when she would try and wash it out on her clothes whenever she was doing laundry. I feared the day she would die, for I didn't want to be alone. She was my only connection to love, to my happiness and to my soul.

My father scolded her, told her to get up and make dinner like a wife should. He was a very violent and cold man. I don't think he married my mother for anything else but her cooking and her looks. My mother was like a proud, shining prize that he had won and now he is abusing it because he was bored and needed someone to pick on. I didn't like my father at all, he ignored me until it was training time. He would pay attention to me then, teaching me how to be a warrior like him and a good hunter for the village. I hated those training sessions because it was more like beatings for me. I wasn't as strong as he was or as fast. So I would get hit a lot more then my father when we sparred to test my skills. But then my mother would gather me into her arms like a shining angel and take me into the hut to treat my wounds and then everything was okay again.

The next morning I awoke to silence in the hut. There was no coughing, no sneezing, and no yelling father. I got up quickly from my bed and raced into my mother's room to see her lying on the bed and I stopped in shock. I shook myself from the foreboding feeling I was getting and I walked closer. I noticed how pale she was and her lips! The lips were a pale blue, 'the kiss of death' as my village put it whenever someone died. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stared at my mother, my Allahr, and I climbed in next to her and hugged her body as strong as I could with my seven-year old body. I didn't make a sound when I cried; my tears just slipped down my face without any sound. That was the last time I ever cried in my lifetime.

The older women of the village came in the room a little while later and gently took my arms off from around my mother's cold body and one of them hugged me for comfort. I didn't feel it at all and I stared at my mother's body sadly. The other two older women lifted up my mother and carried her out of the room to prepare the body for the feasting ceremony.

All day I could think of nothing but the feasting ceremony. I would take part in it, I decided. I wanted my mother's knowledge and maybe if I ate her heart, I could feel her love forever. It was a comforting thought and it kept me from breaking down throughout the whole day. But the night eventually came closing in and my father and I dressed up in our fanciest clothes. We headed towards the temple where the smell of burning flesh reached my nostrils I almost got sick right at the side of the road. I had never been at a feasting before, and the smell had shocked me terribly. I continued onward, ignoring the hurling of my stomach and we walked into the temple.

The people of the village recited ancient prayers to our gods asking them to guild my mother to her final resting-place. Two young girls, both about the age of sixteen, brought out a plate that held the cooked heart on the ceremonial golden piece. I had skipped dinner because of this feast and in the back of my mind I hoped that it wouldn't taste nasty but I pushed the thought from my mind. This was for my mother's honor and her knowledge.

I got up from the kneeling position and walked to the front of the temple. I kneeled down at the feet of the two girls and they gently placed the plate before me. I said a quick prayer to the gods and I grabbed the heart and bit into it. Cooked blood gushed into my mouth and I swallowed eagerly and took another bite. The flesh was warm and was nearly tasteless; for flavor was never added to it. I could feel the heart going down my throat and into my stomach. I had my mother's heart! I could almost feel her knowledge pouring into me. I finished about ten minutes later and used the cloth of my sleeve to wipe my mouth to get rid of the blood that dripped onto my lips and I closed my eyes to savor the moment of finishing my mother's heart. I had my mother's heart, my Allahr's heart, now and forever. No one could take it away from me because I had her love. I could almost feel arms wrapping around me gently and hugging me. I felt so warm and safe. I looked up toward the ceiling and I felt lips brush mine before I felt them disappear as if it never happened.

Years later, I was the best hunter of the village. My father dreamed of making me the perfect soldier but I had my mother's heart with me so I didn't completely summit to the training. I didn't become the cold man my father was, but I was close. I never spoke unless there was a reason and I never indulged in human pleasures with women for I was focused on my training. But it paid off for I was a warrior with a heart, even if it was a cold one. But I had a heart and I think my mother would be proud of me. No, I knew she was for sometimes like the night of the ceremony, I could feel her love. It was just like before, warm and safe. I felt so special.

It was dark and the full moon tonight and it lit the path down into the small forest just near the village. My band of hunters are with me and we needed to scope out the area for either Egyptians or any near by game for food. The night creatures were just starting to wake up in the forest and it created a wonderful tone of the forest with all the chirping, the rustling of animals, and the survival. That made me feel slightly calm but tense as a bowstring. I had the same foreboding feeling I did the night my mother died and it made me shiver from an unseen chill. 

I double-checked my bow and arrow and made sure my dagger was secure in my boot before I had left the village because you could never know when you are attacked by Egyptians. They were very cunning and ruthless to get what they wanted, but the Egyptians were intelligent enough to give you a good fight if you were caught unprepared. I didn't plan on being unprepared. 

A young man my age with a strange hairstyle that consisted of his bangs covering over one of his eyes, smirked at me as he followed beside me. He was from my village but he was adopted. He and his family had come from up north when they said they met up with the Egyptians that attacked their own village for land. The Elders took pity on them and allowed them to stay with us. For any enemy of the Egyptians were allies to us. He was the closest thing to a friend that I had ever had, I think. "Think the Egyptians will attack us tonight?" He said airily, but it was only in a tone that would keep others from listening in on their conversation for it was known many people in the tribe were very nosy. I don't like nosy people.

"Hn. You know better then to ask that, Troh Wah." I replied while rolling my eyes lightly to show a slight joking tone I had to it. I was never really one to express emotions in my voice since my mother died, I found it a profound weakness in battle. Sorry, that was the training speaking that my father put me through, the bastard. "The Egyptians will attack just like they did yesterday and the day before."

Troh Wah nodded and hushed the younger warriors to be quiet as the forest had suddenly became just as quiet. Troh Wah was an excellent hunter, perhaps better then me even. He had this connection to the animals that I had never seen before, I think he was a priest of some-sort. I was a priest too. I had been made one just only a few months ago in our little temple, the same one my mother's feasting ceremony took place. I was the High Priest General. It meant I was in charge of the warriors and I demanded the highest respect other then the Elders. Many people feared me while others hated me. You can say I got used to it, kinda. 

No crickets chirped; bugs were not buzzing about looking for food for the night. Something was in the forest that shouldn't be there and every soldier in our group tensed up and reached slowly for their weapons. I had already grabbed an arrow from my arrow case on my back and sat it gently onto the bow, ready to be used on whatever silenced the forest.

"DAMN!" 

SHO-WACK!

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Whew! Man I never thought writing in first-person POV was so hard! ^.^ Hmm, well I hope you liked this chapter. I know the chapters are short but I promise they will get better. I just couldn't think of a good place to stop and this seemed like a good cliff-hanger point!

So do you all think I'm doing good for Heero? I never really tried to get into his head, I've only done Duo's head and they got some major differences. Anyway, tell me what you think.

Oh yah! For all of those people who have never read the Anne Rice Vampire Chronicles, read them! They're very good! My favorite one is The Vampire Lestat and Interview with a Vampire. Please tell me what you think of this chapter okay? Thanks for reading!

If you didn't know:

Troh Wah- Trowa

Heeh Roh- Heero

Allahr- A slight change in the muslim way to say "God". But "allahr" means "Angel" in Heero's er, ancient lanugage. ^.^;;

-AlantisB


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